Red Vs Blue: Full Circle
by Xylina-Furiae
Summary: This was a christmas-fic challenge at a different community, and I thought I'd post it here. Grif/Simmons, HSAU, fluff.  Disclaimer: I do not own HALO nor Red Vs Blue and I am making no money from this , but if I did, things would be a lot different.


_Richard,_

_I barely know you, and you barely know me. You drive me crazy. I can't get you out of my head, for reasons I do not now and probably never will know. The way you talk, the way you walk, the way you move. It mystifies me. You mystify me. I can't figure out why you catch so much of my attention and keep so many of my thoughts on you, but maybe if I get it out there I'll feel better. So you can go ahead and forget you ever read this. Chances are, you'll never know who I am. In honesty, I kind of hope it stays that way. You'd never forgive me if you knew, and neither would anyone else. _

Richard shook his head, dismissing the paper he had grabbed from his locker's teeth that morning and shoved it deep into the depths of his shoulder-bag. He had never received a love letter before, not in his life, and even so he wasn't all that sure that the one he had just found, and was seemingly addressed to him, was all that sincere. The only reason he had even been in there this morning was because he was bored, and wanted to re-arrange his textbooks to read alphabetically by title so he could find them quicker that afternoon. If it wasn't for that, he might not have found the letter at all, seeing as how often the deans call for the lockers to be emptied (security in their school was particularly strict not because crime was a common occurrence, but because the deans had a delusion that papers in lockers made the school look less prestigious). He didn't have the time to think about it right now.

Looking up at the door of the house before him, he reached out a hand and rapped his knuckles against the oak. He was nervous, for reasons he couldn't quite ascertain, standing in front of the house of his classmate. It was not that he was all that shy around people. At least, he didn't think so. On top of that, it wasn't as if Dexter Grif was a complete stranger. They had exchanged words in passing a few times, if nothing else. Nonetheless he couldn't seem to get his palms to dry.

The door swung open in front of him a few moments later, and he was met with a girl, slightly younger than he was, standing before him in a towel. He recognized her as Dexter's sister, Kaikaina. She didn't seem too ashamed of answering the door wearing almost nothing, and it occurred to him that he must have interrupted her shower.

She looked him over, a small grin growing on her lips. He had never before noticed how tanned her skin was or how delicately her hair, even though wet, framed her face or how smooth her shoulders were. It made his cheeks flush the faintest pink, particularly when her eyes once again met his and her grin grew.

"You're Richard Simmons," she stated more than asked, her eyebrow raising just a hair.

Richard cleared his throat before speaking and was disappointed to find the first word still cracked in his mouth as he replied, "Yes, I am. Dexter and I are doing a project for school."

Kaikaina's expression faded just a little, as though she had been disappointed that she was not the center of his visit (which confused him, since she had routinely made fun of him for being a "nerd") and she moved away from the door to let him inside.

"Take off your shoes," she instructed gently, "Mom freaks if dirt gets on the floor. Dex is in his room, upstairs , first door on the left."

He took a step inside, a breeze on his back as Kai shut the door behind him, and lifted a foot to remove one shoe before the other. He lifted his gaze to the foyer he stood in; it was very nicely decorated, which was surprising considering his knowledge of the Grifs – jade wallpaper, golden wood flooring and trim, and every corner adorned with hibiscus trees, orchids and birds of paradise plants. Directly across from him on the wall was an expansive mirror, making the room appear twice as big as it really was and allowing him to see the groups of photos on the wall behind him. He was brought out of his observations only by the sound of a door closing and the realization that Kaikaina was no longer in the room with him, leaving him alone in the extensive room before him.

Richard cleared his throat, nervously, and looked once more around the room. _Alright_, he thought to himself, _up the stairs and on the left. _

Looking around once more, he found the stairs tucked in a corner next to a large plant he couldn't recognize. He climbed them, hesitant to use the handrail as to not get fingerprints on its near-pristine gloss, and shyly made his way to the first door he saw on the left, as Dexter's sister had instructed.

The door was open. Richard lifted his fist to knock on the door frame, but was immediately distracted by what he saw. Dexter was leaning over something on his bed, making back-and-fourth motions with his arm, shirtless; Richard could not help but notice Dexter's shoulder blade as it moved under his skin, his only slightly pronounced spine bending as he leaned to reach a spot he had missed father away. He was a little soft around the edges, sure, but by no means was he unsightly as he had originally imagined (never mind the fact that this was the first time Richard had seen Dex give any sort of effort into doing anything physical, even given they had the same gym class). Tossing a rag to the floor, Dexter lifted his arms above his head and grabbed his wrists, stretching out his back and letting a strained sigh escape his lips. He let one of his hands drop below his shoulders to scratch the be base of his neck, and as if feeling the burn of Richard's eyes on him slowly turned around to face the other teen. He raised an eyebrow, slowly, more than likely offended by the blank stare of his classmate.

Richard stumbled on his words for only a second, fixing his bag on his shoulder.

"Hi," he managed to coerce out his throat, "I, uh... didn't want to interrupt what you were doing."

Dexter waved a dismissive hand, turning around and hoisting the surfboard previously on his bed to his lap, and took a seat on his bed.

"Whatever, dude," he replied, leaning to grab the rag off the floor. "I totally forgot you were supposed to come over today. Take a seat, I guess."

Richard looked around, opting to sit at a small table in the room, lifting his bag to the tabletop and drawing a notebook out of it. He flipped to a note-filled page and carefully folded the cover over to the back before laying it down on the table before him and smoothing a crumpled corner with his thumb.

"I was thinking," Richard started quietly, "and I have a few ideas for what we could do."

Dexter, uninterested, returned to stroking the surfboard in his lap with his rag-laden palm, slowly reaching from one end to the other.

"One thing we could do is measure the changes in a model rocket's performance based on the motor. We'd change it out between tests and measure the difference in efficiency based on weight, thrust, drag, and lift. We would probably have to figure out how to apply the model equation for thrust, but I'm sure with a little practice we could figure that out."

"Whatever you think it easiest," he replied, his eyes locked on the bright orange paint under his hand.

Richard looked up from his notes, quirking an eyebrow in interest.

"What?"

"I said, 'whatever you think is easiest, _dude_'," he repeated with a slight roll to his eyes.

"The point of the assignment is to learn something complex over the course of the semester by following steps outlined in the packet … and tying in things we learn in class."

"I know."

"So … We can't possibly do something 'easy' if we're supposed to do something complex that we learn to do over the course of the entire semester. That doesn't make any sense."

"Okay, let me rephrase."

Dexter dropped the rag to the board in his lap, lifting his eyes to his classmate.

"I have no intention of impeding your work," he sighed, "but I certainly don't have any intention of racking my brain doing it. I mean, if you want me to get a pencil for you or want my opinion or something, fine, but I'm not about to resort to osmosis to learn any of this shit just for a dumb project. You seem to care, though, so go nuts."

Richard stared, perplexed, even as Dexter lifted his rag to once more return to polishing his board.

"So, what you're telling me... Is that you don't intend on doing any of the work, want me to do all of it, and want your name on it at the end even though you're not doing anything."

"No," Dexter returned, "I said I would offer opinion and get you pencils and shit. That's helping if you ask me."

"This project is worth nearly forty percent of our final grade! Doesn't that matter to you?"

"Well, meh," Dexter shrugged. "As long as I pass."

"So," Richard furrowed his eyebrows, "you just want to squeeze by with a decent grade and not do anything to get it."

Dexter dropped his rag and looked back at the boy in front of him.

"I don't think you understand me," he retorted. "I said I would do the maximum amount of work I am willing to do to get the maximum grade. Therefore, I am giving my all to get the grade I deserve. Also? If I were to actually try to help you, I'd just fuck around and we'd get a worse grade. So it's a whole lot better if you just do it and I watch the master do his work."

Richard almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. He lowered a hand to nervously fiddle with the edge of his paper, his eyes setting on the notes he had written there.

"Well," Richard started, not really knowing what to say, "I guess that's okay..."

"Good," Dexter replied, "as long as we're on the same page."

Dexter turned back to polishing his beloved surfboard, Richard to his notes, and the next few hours were spent in complete silence.

The next few weeks at school were uneventful at best. As mad as Richard was about the blatant disregard Dexter had shown to their project, he could not and and knew he would not say a word to their physics teacher about it. As infuriated as Richard knew he should have been, he did as he was told to gather all of the necessary materials and wrote the formulas for their procedures, even going so far as to stay at school late into the night in the library nose-deep in resource books and instruction manuals. Wanting to keep on track with the rest of the class, he stayed up later and later each night, his mother scolding him each morning for doing so.

It should have bothered him, he knew it should have. He should have told his teacher about his unwilling team-mate and gotten a new group member at the very least. He should not have looked forward to the opportunity to visit Dexter at his home every week. Even so, every Wednesday afternoon when he made the twenty-minute bicycle ride to Dexter's house he honestly hoped he would walk into the scene he had on his very first visit. He was never so lucky, as for the few meetings following that one Richard would go to Dexter's room to find him at his computer desk, completely focused on some videogame or another. It was disappointing, for reasons Richard couldn't determine, and it was almost a let down to be met with a fully-clothed Dexter Grif.

It had been weeks since the project started, and the seasons changed. Fall had officially come, bringing with it the chilly winds from up north. It was a time for big, comfy sweaters and favorite band sweatshirts. The sea of shorts and skirts slowly transitioned to jeans and lounge pants, sandals became gym shoes, and bare necks were covered with thin, chill-weather scarves. This didn't seem to deter Kaikaina, who whenever Richard visited seemed to be clinging to the summer, her shirts sleeveless and her jeans cut-off just high enough.

One Wednesday was particularly brisk, something Richard did not notice until he had parked his bicycle outside the Grifs' home. A shiver running down his spine, he made his way to the giant, familiar oak door and rapped his cold knuckles against it. Kaikaina answered the door a few moments later, once again clad in her Daisy Dukes and camisole, in addition donning large slippers that came up to her mid-calf.

"Hey Richie," she cooed, leaning against the door. She rested her cheek on the door frame, offering him a small smile.

"Hello, Kai," he returned, entering the house when he was allowed to.

"It's really hot in here," Richard observed, unzipping his sweatshirt.

"Yeah," Kai prodded, closing the door and turning to him. "I knew you'd be coming over, and last week your cheeks were so pink and I felt so bad I turned up the heat in the parlor for you. You just looked so sad."

Richard felt his cheeks blush, not knowing how to respond. He never liked the attention of girls directly on him, especially ones as attractive as Kaikaina was.

"Thank you?"

It was the most he could speak, given the circumstances as he felt Kai's long, thin fingers on his shoulders slowly removing his sweatshirt.

"I'm just kidding," she giggled, taking his sweatshirt from him. "We just moved here from Hawaii."

"Hawaii?" Richard turned to look at her. Finally, the décor of the parlor and Dexter's affinity for that surfboard made sense. He wasn't sure why he hadn't put two and two together before.

"Yeah. Mom's really homesick, so she put a bunch-a plants in the parlor and needs to keep the house hot and humid to keep them alive. That and it was always hot and humid in Honolulu. She wanted to feel like she was always coming 'home', yanno?"

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Dex is really homesick, too," she started, then shook her head. "He doesn't ever leave his room if he can help it. It's kinda sad. He and mom have gotten into fights about him wanting to drop out ever since we moved here."

"Really?"

"Yeah... Aw, shit, don't tell Dex I told you that stuff. He'll be so pissed. Anyway, you know where to find him. I'll be in the basement if you need me."

With that, she took Richard's sweatshirt to a closet near the front door and started for the kitchen, leaving Richard alone in the parlor as if it were her weekly ritual. Just as ritually, he went to Dexter's room and let himself in, going to his table and setting his bag down. Much to his surprise, Dexter was at his desk, assembling what Richard recognized as the model rocket for their project.

Richard raised his eyebrows and straightened his back, having started his descent into his seat, and leaned over the table to ensure he wasn't losing his mind.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, a bit startled.

"I'm bored," the other teen replied, lifting his eyes from his tinkering. "I figure, if I'm gonna be bored out of my skin, I might as well do something productive."

"Holy shit."

"Shut the fuck up, Simmons. I could always stop doing what I'm doing and take a nap like last week."

"No, by all means, continue," Richard chuckled.

"I don't want any more of your sass today."

"I'm not all that sure if I can deliver. I'm feeling mighty sassy."

"Hey, Simmons? Do me a favor and never say that again. You sound like a chick."

"I'll do my best."

Dexter set his bottle of glue down on the desk and lifted his eyes once again to Richard.

"Are you gonna stand there staring at me, or are you gonna help me build this damn thing? I need someone to hold this while I glue it."

Richard grinned and walked over to comply.

That week, Richard left the Grifs' house feeling like they had really made a step. They brushed shoulders, working too closely together. Their hands grazed one another as they held pieces together. With every touch, as accidental as it was, Richard couldn't help but feel his stomach flutter as if it were a jar full of butterflies, as rare as butterflies were on their own.

When he had gotten home, he slept better than he had in weeks.

The next Wednesday was colder than the others preceding it. Richard had gotten a ride to school from his mother, and subsequently was driven to the Grifs' house.

Kaikaina answered, offering him the same welcoming smile and hip-bob as normal, fluttering her eyelashes at him pleasantly.

"Hey, Richie. Come in! It's cold out!"

He did what he was told, pulling his shoes off and setting them beside the door, then starting for the stairs.

"Oh. Hey, I'd stay down here for a bit. Dex said he was busy with something and didn't want to be bothered till he came out."

Richard cocked a brow, looking over at Kaikaina and setting his bag down on the floor.

"Oh … Alright. Should I wait here, or...?"

"Sure! I'll sit with you if you want. I don't have anything to do."

She gestured to two chairs in the room that seemed to be a new addition to the décor. The size of the room almost called for seating, as it seemed to be bare even with the kaleidoscope of plants adorning it.

He took a seat, dragging his bag over the floor to sit beside him.

"So," Kai leaned onto the table, resting her chin on her propped palm, "you're a senior, right? I figured, since you're in some of Dex's classes with him. Um... Phillo-thingy and gym, right?" 

"Physics and gym. How did you know that?" Richard quirked his eyebrow, only mildly uncomfortable with the amount of space she had given him.

"Oh, Dex told me. He tells me lots of stuff. Isn't that how you and your siblings are?"

"Yeah? I don't have any siblings, so I wouldn't know..." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"What? Aw, that's a bummer. Dex can be a pain in the dick sometimes, but, you know. He's Dex."

"I'll bet. Wait, wh-"

There was the thudding of footsteps coming down the stairs, and Dexter was standing above them. His normally tidy appearance was slightly off – his hair was jostled, pink marks on his chin and neck. He rested on hand on the handrail, glaring at the two below him, and barred his teeth.

"Kai, what the- Simmons? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Well," Richard started, softly, "it's Wednesday..."

Kaikaina's lips parted and she raised her eyebrows.

"Lipstick! What the hell are you doing? Who's in there with you?" She demanded more than asked, scooting forward in her chair in curiosity.

"Um. None of your damn business," he spat back. "Just shut the fuck up. You're ruining this for me."

"If mom found out you were doing it with a girl while she wasn't home-"

"Kai, shut up. Don't bother me. Simmons … Go home. Now I'm pissed, and it's gonna take a while for me to cool off, so just ... go home. And Kai, I swear to god if you tell mom about this, I will make you wish you were never born."

With that, he started back up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Richard and Kaikaina sat in silence, Kai's eyes fixed on the top of the stairs as if wishing she could see beyond the landing, Richard's eyes slowly moving from where Dexter was just standing to the floor.

It seemed like hours that they sat there. His heart ached, as if it was slowly tearing in two, every fiber stretching to its max before finally snapping from the tension. He didn't understand what he had done to deserve the pain he felt, and more importantly why he felt it, but it didn't let up. If anything, it sank into his core, sinking into his stomach and rising into his throat.

Not being able to take it, he stood up. He zipped his coat, and made for the door. If Kaikaina said anything to him, he didn't hear it. He heard himself choking as he left the house, closing the door behind him. He walked home, icy wind blowing in his face and snow beginning to fall.

And all he could hear was his own sobbing, and the breaking of his heart.

Richard didn't go to school the next day, as uncharacteristic as it was of him. He couldn't seem to get himself out of bed, not until school was already half-over for the day, and even when he did he went to the couch and sat there, not being able to find pleasure in the book he had been reading the day before.

He almost didn't hear the doorbell ring over his own thoughts. Being the only one home, he stood to answer it, and was surprised to see it was Kaikaina there at his front door.

"Hey, Richie," she greeted, softly. Her eyebrows lowered in sympathy at his unkempt appearance, more than likely noticing he was wearing what he wore the day before to her house.

"I came to return your bag," she continued, holding it out to him. "You left it at my house yesterday."

His eyes slowly lowered from her face to the bag she held out to him, and he took it from her.

"Thanks."

"Yeah. Dex told me you weren't in school today … You don't look so good."

Richard rolled his eyes. He was sure, sometimes, that Kai was the absolute biggest moron he had ever met.

"No," he retorted, "I left your house in tears yesterday because I'm just so damn fantastic."

She folded her arms, her lips puckering into a round pout.

"You don't have to be such a jackass. Listen, I know what happened back there. I'm no dummy. Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Well, can I at least come in? I'm freezing my ass off out here."

Richard, defeated, stepped to the side ad allowed her to come in, setting his bag down by the door. He closed it, then stood back up to look at her.

"Okay, Richie," she started as she removed her scarf, "you know what I think would make you feel loads better?"

He didn't answer. He didn't have time. She stepped closer, wrapping her scarf around the back of his neck and pulling him into a lean, his eyes now level with hers.

"I think you and I should do it."

Richard's lips stumbled, seemingly sobered completely by what she said, and stood back up.

"I – No! I couldn't do that. You're … You're, what? A sophomore?"

"Freshman. But what does it matter? It'll make you feel so much better, Richie, I promise."

"I – Kai. I can't."

She moved closer, cornering him, and as he backed up he fell backwards onto the couch. She crawled into his lap, her silken hands caressing his neck as she discarded her scarf on the floor.

"What's the matter," she whispered, lowering her lips to his ear, "are you afraid? I've been crushing on you forever, and you make me feel so hot."

He swallowed hard, but didn't fight her, as her lips closed in on his. Her mouth was sweet, like the hibiscuses that decorated the parlor of her house, and as if on auto-pilot his tongue delved in between her lips. He craved her taste. Laying his hands on her hips, he pulled her close to him as she settled in his lap. It was intoxicating holding her, breathing her in, kissing her, wanting her so bad he could feel it in his chest. She pressed on his groin with her own, sending sparks up his spine and forcing his fingers tighter on her hips. Her lips she dragged over his cheek to his Adam's apple, dragging her teeth over it, eliciting the softest of whines from him.

"I want you to kiss my neck," she demanded, whispering into his throat. "Hard. I want you to leave marks."

Before he knew what he was doing he removed her from his neck to give her a kiss on the lips, once again craving the taste of her mouth, before tilting her chin with his nose and pressing his lips to her throat. He inhaled, his lips never leaving her skin, his breath taking in the scent of her home and the flowers in her parlor. In what could be a fit of anger or longing (whatever emotion was driving him he couldn't be sure) he drew her skin into his mouth, kissing her hard, biting her skin with every kiss. He felt like an animal, his normal shyness around girls having so quickly diminished into a haze of craving affection and the worst sexual frustration he had ever known.

She cooed under his kisses. It startled him minutely, seemed too feminine, but it seemed to drive him into a harsher bout of kissing.

"Yeah, Richie, just like that."

It was perhaps her speaking that threw him. Her voice was Kai's, but it was Dexter's neck he imagined under his tongue, under his lips, under his teeth. Her hands were too soft, her neck too smooth, her fingers in his hair too long and dainty. He found her gaze with his own, pulling his lips from her skin to speak.

"Kai," he started, feeling his throat tighten against the words he wanted to say, "I can't do this."

She pouted, her arms lowering to loop around Richard's neck, and she pulled herself close in an embrace.

"I know," she whispered. 

"You don't know anything," Richard replied with a shake of his head.

"Yes, I do," she retorted, "I see you."

Richard pulled a pillow onto his lap, shyly, "I really don't care."

"Oh, please. I'm surprised you even got a boner for me."

His cheeked flushed, and he looked away from her.

"Sorry."

"No, don't apologize! I liked it. It was forbidden. Kinda hot. I actually was hoping you'd take me up on my offer, but..."

He stuttered, holding the pillow closer.

"Kai!"

She giggled and turned toward the door, rubbing her neck with a hand.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, right? Oh. And, next time, though, Rich? When a girl tells you to kiss them hard, you don't need to play vampire. Christ."

Richard had considered taking another day off, but with the amount of work he knew he would have he decided against it. It was as if he didn't even need to keep his distance, Grif seemed to be doing it for him. Of course, regardless of the amount of viewing time he had of the other teen it seemed all he could think about was Dexter. It ached. He wanted nothing more than to get up the courage to talk to his friend, but the distance between them seemed as hard to navigate as a planet of deserts – he could look at it and identify it, make an educated plan of attack, but when it came right down to it his fear crept up into his throat and stopped him dead in his tracks. He would occasionally raise his eyes during class to look at Dexter, but even if they made eye contact it was brief and Dex would immediately look away, which made Richard's chest ache ever more.

They went the whole day without so much as speaking. It was relatively relieving when at the end of the day Richard could go to his locker and look forward to the weekend ahead of him, when he would be able to let his mind rest and try to forget about Dexter for a few days. He re-arranged the textbooks on their shelf, alphabetically by their authors to give himself a challenge for Monday, and closed the door of his locker.

"Hey, Simmons."

Richard lifted his gaze from the combination lock he was resetting to see Dexter Grif stepping toward him, the only other person in the now empty hall. Grif grabbed him by the shirt collar and forced him into the door of his locker, his eyes now affixed on Richard's own in a hateful glare.

"You better give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat your trekkie-ass into the ground, you fuck stain."

Richard stammered, resting his hands on the lockers behind him, wanting to push off and free himself but not being able to find the strength.

"I – Dex, I didn't do anything! What are you talking about?"

"Bullshit you didn't do anything, I saw what you did to my sister! What the fuck's the matter with you? She's a freshman, you dicksmear!

"Grif, she came on to _me_!"

"I don't give a shit," Dexter spat at him, pushing him harshly into the cold locker behind him. "I will ask you once. Once _only_, and I will give you the chance to answer honestly. Did you fuck her?"

Richard shook his head. He somehow knew last night would backfire.

"No. I didn't. I promise – I wouldn't lie to you about this!"

"Really? 'Cause she told me you did. Are you calling her a liar?"

"She _what_?"

"She told me you two did it last night. At your house."

The experience replayed in Richard's head for the umpteenth time, and as always it was the same... As delicious as it was to have a girl in his lap sucking his neck, every time he wished upon wished it was Dexter in his arms. He was brought back to reality as he was shook against the locker, Grif's glare becoming more of a pleading stare.

"Did you, or did you not," he repeated as he shook Richard once against the locker, "have sex with my 15 year old sister?"

"No. No, I didn't! She came over to return my bag because I left it at your house. She came on to me, said we should, but when we started kissing … I couldn't. I'd never do that. Now can you take your fucking hands off me?"

Dexter's glare faded and he slowly dropped his hands from Richard's collar, letting an exasperated sigh leave his lips.

"I believe you, I guess. She just... She came home with this giant fucking hickey, said she was with you, and I lost it. That's my baby sister, you know."

"I'm aware," Richard replied. "Sorry."

Grif shook his head, reaching to grab his bag off the floor.

"Me too."

Grif sighed again, lifting a hand to run through his hair, brushing is out of his face as he wrestled a thought in his head.

"Listen. I guess I was just... I don't know what I would have done."

"I would have done the same thing if I had a sister, Grif."

"No, I mean, me. I don't know what _I _would have done."

Richard looked Grif over and pouted his lips.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Grif turned to look at him, having to lean his head upward just slightly to make eye contact. His eyes darted from Richard's face to the lockers a few times before finally coming to rest on the floor.

"Listen... The other night, I didn't know you were there. I was scared as fuck when I saw you were downstairs. I guess I was afraid you'd be mad."

"I wasn't mad," Richard lied, shifting his bag on his shoulder.

"Kai told me you left in a huff, so you're lying."

Richard's heart was pumping in his chest. How had this started as Grif yelling at him for something he hadn't done to something that was making him so nervous about everything he had been hiding? His head was buzzing and he nearly felt dizzy. Grif may have spoke again, but he didn't hear it – instead, he heard his own voice leave his lips before he could even think to stop them.

"I did it to get back at you."

"... and I just – what?"

Grif lifted his eyes to Simmons's face, furrowing his brows.

"You did what to get back at me?"

"Kissed Kai. I did it because I was so damn pissed. I guess... I thought, okay, how insensitive can you fucking get, I'm _right here_. It was like you didn't give a damn about my feelings at all. But... Why the hell should you? It doesn't make sense to me either. But I was so mad, I wanted to undercut you and make you sorry you did what you did, but I guess that isn't your problem. That's my problem, isn't it?"

"Stop talking."

"I'll understand if you never want to talk to me again. Really, I will."

"Shut up."

"I'm just gonna go home and pretend none of this ever happened, and we'll see what happens on Monday. That's what I'm gonna do. So, whatever. I gotta go."

"Richard. For the love of god, shut up."

Hearing his first name, Richard's eyes once again looked to Grif's, and he frowned at the realization of what he had just said. It made his stomach knot. Had he just said that? He just outed himself, he knew it, even if he couldn't fully remember what it was he had said.

They stood in silence, both of them shaking ever-so-noticeably, one not knowing what to say to the other. It seemed like hours that they were there staring into each others' faces, awkwardly shifting their weights from one foot to the other, fishing for any words that would come to mind. It was maddening, Richard decided, yet his still hadn't a clue of what to do or what to say or how to fix what he had just done. His stomach tightened, lurching nervously, and he felt like he wanted to reach out for something to hold on to and vomit.

It was finally Grif who broke the silence, his soft voice nearly getting lost in the thick air between them.

"Richard, I barely know you and you barely know me."

_I know that_, Simmons's mind wanted to say, but he couldn't say anything. He could only stand silently as he prepared himself for the inevitable: Grif proverbially tearing his heart right out, tearing it to pieces while he watched and letting the shreds drift to the floor like morbid confetti.

"I... can't get you out of my head."

Richard lifted his eyes, slowly, having to blink past tears he already felt gestating in his eyes as Dexter started to speak.

"What?"

Grif's eyes lowered to the floor and he continued, uninfluenced by Richard's question.

"You mystify me. But getting it out on paper didn't make me feel better, it only made me feel worse. I didn't want to feel like that. I didn't want it to be you. I never wanted this to happen. I didn't want you to know who I was, but … Now you do. Now that you do... I hope you can forgive me. For hiding, for playing games, for being a complete fucking asshole. For everything. I'm sorry. I did you so wrong, and I want to make it right, and as it turns out you're the only fucking thing about this town that makes me deal with living here, so... "

Richard felt his lips part, but he could not make words work for him. … All he could do was stare. He would never have expected that Grif could be as eloquent as he had just proved himself to be, and more importantly, that this entire time he was not alone in feeling that something was there lurking under their everyday banter and miniscule arguments, in their gentle touches and accidental caresses that drove him insane. The realization made the vice around his heart tighten, his mouth dry, his mind completely devoid of any coherent thought.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to wait long for the air between them to be parted; Dexter sliced it in two as he made a step forward. He brushed their lips together, and Richard felt a fire seep into his skin and run down his spine, paralyzing him. As quickly as the welcome affection was there it disappeared, Grif clearing his throat. Richard once again found Dexter's lips with his own, drawing them into a kiss. Dexter's lips felt even more soft and welcomed than he had even imagined. They stayed like that for a few moments before Grif took another step away, and they opened their eyes to meet each others' once more.

Grif let out a half-chuckle, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"Well..." he started, a grin growing on his lips, "now what?"

Richard shrugged, his own lips letting a laugh out.

"Are we together, now?" Dexter asked, joining him in his nervous laugh.

"I... Yeah, I guess?" Richard replied, finding Grif's hands with his own and squeezing them.

"That's fine by me." Grif smirked, returning the squeeze with his own fingers. "We should … leave school, or some shit."

Nodding, Richard took his hands from Dexter's to fix the strap of the bag on his shoulder.

"Just one question first."

Grif looked up at Simmons, raising an eyebrow at his inquiry.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really have sex with that girl?"

Grif frowned and looked at the floor again, grumbling.

"No," he replied. "Turns out, she had a dick. Freaked me the fuck out."

As relieved as he was, Simmons could not contain his laughter.

The end.


End file.
